Dragons and fire and big blue boxes
by The-Hufflepuff-Death-Eater
Summary: A series of unrelated stories, freeverses and oneshots about everyone's favorite dragonchasing Slytherin, sometimes including the Doctor. Mostly LilyTeddy, because I am predictable.
1. Eyes of the dead

**My first try at a freeverse O.O**

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><p>You're more like your namesake than you want to admit.<p>

And sometimes you **wish** you could be someone else- not **_LilyLuna_**, not the girl with a dead woman's eyes_hair_**name**, not the last little **Weasley**_Potter_, _not_ the one he **{**_Teddy_**} **didn't chose.

So when that **bigbluebox** and the _madman_ it held _c_|r|a|s|h|e|d into your life, you didn't think **twice**.

Goodbye Lily**Luna.**

Hello, universe.


	2. Slytherin hearts

****You both have Slytherin hearts.****

Sure, hers was held by _thatboy_-the one with the dark hair and the hooked nose, the one who was just a **little **_too _interested in the Dark Arts- and yours just lies uselessly in your chest, broken beyind repair by that unknowing _Hufflepuff_ and held together only by dragon dreams, but they both beat **silver**and_green_.


	3. How it all began

You _{_might_}_ have been **s o _b _bi n _g_** in your room-

because you learned **(** yet again**)**

Slytherin ties **don't** beat _Veela**eyes**_, sweet**heart**.

And _she_'ll always get the **boy**.

wooshbang

_crash_

what's that?

Find your **Gryffindor** courage, _lilypad_.

(It must be there **somewhere**_)  
><em>You're _Harry Potter_'s daughter, **after **all.

C**r e e p** downstairs

{_creep_, **dear,** because you're still a sneaky_Slytherin_ at heart }

bigbluebox in the garden.

madman in the box.

"**Your bowtie is on fire**.

.

**"**

"Yes it is.

**"**

And so it **begins**.

He tells you, after a while, why he **never**stops_running_.

And you can relate-

After all, you know a thing or **two** about worlds 

**t**

**_u_**

**m**

**_b_**

**l**

_**i**_

**n**

_**g**_

You might have been trapped there **forever**, in the world of _Hogwarts Houses_ and

pretty_Veela_cousins.

but now you can touch the universe.

[And who **cares **if your _dreams_ are full of  
>golden<span>eyes<span>**shifting**_hair_.}

_Certainly _**not **you, **right, **_Lilyluna?_


	4. Starchaser girl and her inkstained boy

**First of all: OHMYSWEETROWLING POTTERMORE. *ahem* Enjoy the story.**

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><p>You and Teddy used to dream about the stars.<br>He loved Astronomy at Hogwarts, and you two used to spend nearly every night when you were little with your eye pressed against the cold end of the telescope, head twisted back at an odd angle but you _didn't care_, because that telescope showed you the stars, and they were more magic than anything you could do with a spell.

Teddy with his fingertips stained in ink from starcharts, and you, little Lily Luna without a care in the world-yet-you made a good team.  
>Until a <strong>blindingly<strong>_bright_ sun called _Victory_ made the stars disappear.

**_{_**but remember Lils, the stars are still there in daytime, you just can't see them.**_}_**

And so you waited for the blistering sun to set and night to come back-night, when you can spread out the old flannel picnic blanket and see the magic stars with your ink-stained boy again

And sometimes a star will **die**, pulling in everything around it as it {she} collapses, creating a black hole named  
>L i l y L u n a P o t t e r.<br>_  
>He<em> shows you the stars now, lets you touch them, and you shouldn't _want_ to be back on that roof with an old telescope and an starchart boy.  
>You should be thrilled with the big<span>blue<span>box and that impossibly oldyoung Timelord who reminds you too much of yourself. With seeing galaxies and-admittedly-a bit more of the past**future**present of your own planet

He knows you too well, because he's felt what you do, and it's with a "Good luck!" and one last hug that smells of time and dust [and maybe slightly singed bowtie] that he pushes you back into your old life, two years older in two weeks.  
>{but then, he was never that good with being on time.}<p>

And look there, your ink-stained boy is up on a rooftop, shivering (what are you, crazy? It's the middle of December, Teddyboy.), and looking for his starchaser girl so he can write her into the parchment with inky fingers.

And sometimes when a star explodes, it is **_beautiful_**.


	5. Supernova Eyes

**I should probably just change the name of this to "Isabella is incapable of writing anything but freeverse about angsty!Lily and the Doctor." I promise one of these days you'll get a story with actual dialouge. And, you know, plot. Soon. In the meantime, you get _two_ freeverses today, because I am also incapable of writing anything long.**

* * *

><p>Her heart used to be whole once, she thinks. A long time ago. And silly girl that she was, green eyes full of dreams and stories and r a i n b o w h a i r, she gave it away bit by bit.<br>One piece has always belonged to Teddy, from the day she was born. One piece to her family's shadow, to stop it nipping at her heels. One piece to the stars and that old flannel blanket on her roof.

Piece by piece, wish by wish, until all that she was left with was a shell that still bled silvergreen.  
>Freeze it babygirl, in your Slytherin ice, and maybe that will stop the pain.<br>Burn it, Lilypad, in dragonsfire and Romanian sun and the beasts that you (**love**?)  
>Stitch it up, china doll, in the extra thread of those heartbreaker clothes you wear now, attracting so many boys but never the one you <em>want<em>.

Stuff it full of stardust, supernova eyes, and dance it through time. (because he knows what pain is too, and he's running just like you are}  
>Patch up your heart as best you can, dear, but know it will never be whole again.<p>

It's far too far gone.

You're both running. You from rainbow-haired Hufflepuffs with a knack for breaking hearts, from a family dressed in redandgold while you hover at the edge in your _**{**_fading_**}**_ silvergreen glory, him from the terrible loneliness and the ghosts you see in his eyes when he thinks you're not watching.

He's had nine hundred years of heartbreak, and even the Slytherin ice queen can't fathom surviving that.  
>So run baby, <span>run<span>.  
>Follow that skinny madman anywhere and everywhere. Linger between time because you're nothing but a ghost of the past anyways.<br>Spend your days flying and laughing and wondering and _running_ and your nights dreaming of golden eyes and hair that used to turn the green of your eyes when he was happy.  
>[but really, time doesn't exist here, so why does not-night still bring nightmares?]<p>

Starships and _(hello)_Time Agents, and London in year whenever-it-is-this-time must beat broomsticks and Hogwarts boys and Charlie's dragon reserve, right?

Right?


	6. Rainstorms

Sometimes she just asks him for a rainstorm.

And he obliges, seeing the dangers building in the back of her eyes again, and rushes about pulling levers and pushing buttons before throwing open the doors and stepping back with a grin, as if presenting her with a finger painting he wants hung on the fridge.

Sometimes it is earth and sometimes not.

**[**

It doesn't really matter

**]**

And she steps from the safe golden light of the box she calls her home now into the grey.  
>Raindrops beat against her skin in a familliar tatto and bead upon eyelashes covering dragonscale green as she lifts her face to the sky and lets the cold deep into her soul.<p>

As soon as she's properly soaked she'll return, sundress and firehair dripping onto the curcuitry, but the monsters banished from her supernova eyes _(_**for now**_)_, and tug him out into the healing cold.

After what could be **days**_months_years they will return, both soaked to the skin and more often than not at least somewhat muddy, and bundle into the library for hot chocolate and a nap wrapped in blankets that smell of time.

He will watch his little human, her skin washed paler than normal from the rain and damp tendrils of fire clinging to her head, the mug dangling precariously from one small hand, and remember that this is something she used to do with that turquoise boy he sees in her dreams.

{It's not _really _snooping if she's asleep**_}_**

And he will remember that he is just a stand in, that the little dragonsfire and supernova eyes girl will never really be his.

[it shouldn't make him sad]

But for now he will show her the stars, and after all, isn't that the most he can ever do for them?


	7. Misadventures in London

It's a simple trip. (though nothing with his is ever that simple, is it?) London, again. In the year whenever.

{she might have stopped listening after the fifth time it wasn't really the year 8000}

He's happily jumping around, trying to look superior and guessing the date just by the way the wind blows while studiously ignoring the newspaper stand right in front of him.  
>But then her attention is caught by a flash of turquoise and <em>shit <em>this is not good, because nightmares are supposed to stay in your head.

"Look, Lils. See that?"  
>Through a break in the crowds, she can see that the hair is attached to a boy whose mood never shifts as often as his face, and attached to his hand is a tiny girl with a dusting of freckles and a halo of red ringlets.<p>

She likes to think she's gotten used to time travel, but seeing herself has put her off balance. And herself in _the before_, when the furthest she could see was flying dragons with Uncle Charlie and no one hated her for loving her best friend, that's even worse.

Under the turquoise hair a pair of golden eyes flash up at her, widening ever so slightly, and she can feel that tugging in her chest, the voice in the back of her mind-_run, babygirl, as fast as you can, before the monsters come to steal your heart again. _

She thinks she can see a spark of recognition in those eyes, but then he grabs her hand because the TARDIS is going berserk over crossed timelines and if they don't leave now she'll lock them out.

She turns to leave, but at the last moment the little redhead who's been tugging on Teddy's arm cranes her head to see what he's looking at.  
>Dragon scale green meets supernova eyes, and for one long moment time stops.<p>

Then with a barely imperceptible nod, one Lily steps back into the stars, and one hugs her Teddy, a shiver of fear running down her spine, the first icy spike of realization that traveling can mean more than a day trip to London with her best friend.


	8. Not all deadly angels are stone

**This is so short. I'm sorry. Blame my muse, it's left me to jump in the puddles.**

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><p>They fascinate Lily, the Angels do.<p>

Because she's seen her share of deadly angels.  
>The ones who do not kill with blood and screaming but rather a look from stone <span>{silver<span>**blue**} eyes.

The ones who plan and wait, and then you

**b l i n k**

well look there. They've taken everything that could have been.

_They're not weeping_

Prettysparkling tears from pools of crystal can drown a Hufflepuff heart, but **real** pain is too ugly for an angel.  
><em>[<em>best give it to a little Slytherin**devil**instead_]_

_They're hiding._

Hide your true face, angel. Paint on the pretty smiles and the love for children and the _natural beauty_.

Because who wouldn't trust an angel named  
><strong>V <em>i c t o r <span>y<span>_**

?


	9. Once upon a time is for the princesses

Once upon a time, every story started with once upon a time.

They were full of dragons and adventures, and dragon tamers named Lilypad, and _alwaysalwaysalways_ included a blue haired Hufflepuff.  
>Once upon a time, a little girl with redred curls and bright green eyes, not yet darkened by things to come, believed.<p>

**_(_**what a silly little thing she was then**_)_**

Because o n c e u p o n a **time** only works if your prince _stays_, Lilypad.

**(**And he neglected to mention that dragon tamers all have **b**_r_oken hearts._)  
><em>  
>Once upon a time is for the princesses, baby girl. Not a tiny mad Slytherin with a nebulae of <strong>rocketstail<strong>and**dragonsfire**hair and greengreen supernova eyes that are plenty dark now.

No, you fit much better with the stories that are as broken as your heart, starting with the end and working your way to the beginning.  
>With a storyteller just as mad as you are, and even more broken.<br>With chapters full of danger and running and monsters.

[You were always going to be the villain, sweetheart.]

So let the blushing belle have her prince, and her kingdom of relatives who never quite knew what this firecracker of a girl was anyways.  
>You have your madman, and all the universe for a kingdom.<p>

{neither really yours, but they might as well be}

And besides, a princess dress would just slow you down.


	10. Run from the madness, Lilypad

It would be so easy to love the Doctor.

With his mad hair that sticks up like it has a mind of it's own, and his double heartbeat that is so comforting to feel against her cheek when they hug. With his insane ideas and jacket that smells of time, and those eyes that search her face when he _knows_she's upset.

And they match. Both tall and skinny, both running like their lives depend on it

{really it's only their sanity}

Both clever and mad and a tiny bit broken.  
>But she's Lily Luna, and life was never destined to be easy for her.<br>Instead her mind is full of hair that still turns green when he's happy, no matter how hard he tries to control it.  
>Of hugs that smell only of old books and sunlight, and a single heart that used to beat for her.<br>Of the boy who used to indulge her mad plans and just _know_, before anyone else, when all she needs is a chance to pause and catch her breath without worrying about losing her mask.

And he didn't match her at all.  
>He was the calm to her wild, the voice of reason to her rebel plans, and the Hufflepuff heart to her Slytherin brain.<br>Yet somehow he fit her perfectly.

Not that it matters, in the end.  
>He chose her. His match. Because Victoire is calm, and beautiful, and reasonable, and most of all she is unbroken.<br>Why would he ever want wildfire hair and supernova eyes and a heart messily stitched together with all her broken dreams when he could have Ravenclaw eyes and sleek waterfall blonde and a heart without a scratch?

So maybe she should just let herself love the Doctor, up here in the stars where time stops and she is invincible. Because she doesn't really want to face the person she is without this.


	11. Scars

There is a small scar on Lily's cheek, the only thing she has left of the girl she used to be. It feels like there should be more, that her silvergreen bleeding heart should be displayed to the world, showing off its rips and bruises, wounds stitched back together with dragon wings and stuffed with stars.

Everything else she let them heal- the burns from her dragons, the gash on her leg from the only time she ever tried flying-but the simple cut on her cheek-caused by a diamond engagement ring tearing into her flesh- she refused to have magically wiped away.

It helps her remember. Even now, as she dances through time and twirls upon stardust, she refuses to forget that _he loved her_.

Once upon a time, they were Lily&Teddy.  
>That time may be gone, and the ring that gave her the scar might rest on the hand of a pretty Veela princess, but the tiny imperfection on the cheek of a girl with supernova eyes and a heart full of stardust remains.<p> 


	12. A beginning and an end

**First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed and read this story. I love you all. Thanks for sticking around all this time! I have a couple more oneshots set in this universe but not directly related to the Doctor, so they'll probably be up on their own soon.**

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><p>There are so many stories.<p>

Too many for even the last of the Time Lords to hear them all, and every one wrapped in such breakable threads of time.

But this story began with a ending and a blue box in the garden.

It seems fitting it should end with a beginning.

Here stands the same blue box, snow already shoring up against it's sides, and there, standing in the doorway framed by dangerously safe golden light, stands a girl.

She is saying goodbye.

It might be to the man inside the box, and she might give him one last hug before returning to the world she's known all her life.  
>To the boy with one heart that belongs to her, and the family might disapprove so they will simply elope because they are Lily&amp;Teddy, and they will make this work.<p>

There might be a house tucked away somewhere, with a roof that holds a telescope and an old flannel blanket, nicked from her house on the night they left, and a stack of starcharts kept from the wind with a bottle of ink that is dangerously close to toppling.

There might be a baby with hair that just won't decide on a colour, and eyes that are brighter than the stars. There might be visits, every so often, from that madman who showed her the stars, and one day the little baby, now a girl with hair that decided on purple (most of the time) might disappear for a few days, and return with the universe in her eyes.

And maybe the goodbye is to her family, to the boy who was never really hers, even though she was his.

Maybe she bids farewell to magic and Houses and dragon wings, and to little Lily Luna.

Maybe she will be some mad kind of Peter Pan, adrift in the universe but never alone. Oh no, she will never be alone. Because however cracked and broken she is, she will always have that man with the universe at his fingertips to take her hand and _run_.

{Choose, if you like, which path she will take, but remember that time can be rewritten.}

And it is here, dear reader, that our story ends with a beginning.


End file.
